


Indelible Traits

by Fedelawliet



Category: Death Note
Genre: Art AU, M/M, NSFW, artist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-23
Updated: 2016-01-23
Packaged: 2018-05-15 18:56:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5796001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fedelawliet/pseuds/Fedelawliet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Artist Meronia AU</p><p>Nate River is a talented artist, famous for how static yet flawless his masterpieces are; when he tries to win a scholarship to America, they tell him that he doesn't look charismatic enough to be an inspiring artist. He is confused, and doesn't know what he lacks... That is until Roger, principal of Wammy's art school, hires and old student, Mihael Kheel, to pose for him. Mihael, despite his grudges against Wammy's for being thrown out, accepts the job for money. Roger hopes that the tension between them will make Nate put more emotion into his works. This sounds like a terrible idea, but this experience will bring them more than they hoped for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Indelible Traits

**Author's Note:**

> Hey!! Just a little introduction here!  
> First of all, I hope you enjoy this! This is a story about art mostly; this is just a prologue, but this is meant to be a constant dialogue between Nate, an artist that draws sticking to canon measures and stays into the lines, literally, and Mihael, an artist that is able to scare and enchant people with his chaotic and bohémien life. Every chapter will be accompanied by a drawing/sketch made by one of the two, and these will be posted on my tumblr. Now that I said so... Well, enjoy, and feel free to say your opinion, it would be really appreciated!

"If there was a right way to define him, I myself wouldn't be able to summarise the amount of talent that blessed his childish hands, and the confidence in his ego, that wasn't any less powerful and astonishing."

These were the words that the young Nate River heard right before entering Wammy's Institute of Graphic and History of Art, when he was ten years old, lacking of goals and dreams, even unrealistic ones; now he was 18, and nothing had changed.  
About Wammy's... It was one of the most famous colleges for performing artists in England, that is since 1962, when the patron Quillish Wammy founded this institute to bring new opportunities to extraordinarily talented children, despite their nationality, language, culture, religion and gender. Nate River? He was special, indeed. He had the power to exalt his works despite the lack of effort, the lack of movement, to him there was no difference drawing a person or a flower, and people didn't even care; his subjects were flawless. His masterpieces were admirable, indeed, despite the fact that he rarely drew normal subjects, in particular during these months, as he was finally 18 and (unfortunately for him), he knew that it was time to find a way in life to do what he wanted, or at least to find a job that would have made him more useful than he was now.  
It was Monday, and strangely, he was called in the office of the Principal. He huffed as he walked trough the crowded corridor, cursing Roger multiple times for having ruined his routine and stopped his training. Once he was able to surpass all the other students, he rapidly entered the room, sighing in relief.  
"...Nate? Nate, are you alright?"  
Nate snapped out at the sound of a familiar voice;"good afternoon, Roger. Why did you call me?"  
Nate really wasn't into long and cheesy greetings.  
"Oh, right. It is about your scholarship in America-"  
"When I'm leaving then?"  
"N-no... Please let me finish. I sent your drawings, your works. You are talented, they made that clear, but you can't just expect to be accepted drawing exclusively robots and buildings. Unless you want to study architecture, that is."  
"No, that is not what I... I want to do graphic arts, nothing else. What..." He couldn't believe he was asking this." What do I lack?"  
"Human figures. Emotion. Colours... You need to paint something that shows your feelings, you need to create empathy between you and the examiner. In order to help you, I took the liberty to book you a model, so that you can train as much as you want-"  
"I refuse. I don't want to work with another person, and I don't need references." He said that coldly, nearly disgusted.  
"So are you going to make it alone? You know you have just a month to send your drawings."  
"I know. I can do it. I'll do it right now. Greetings, I'll go work on it immediately."

Near walked into his room, looking mad. Or at least, people had learned to recognise that by his behaviour, and when he walked with that slightly faster pace, everybody stood away from him, and they did well. He locked himself into his studio, which had constantly closed windows, making the smell of linseed oil and turpentine too strong for anyone else but him, and he had to switch on the light, despite the fact that the sun still shone in the sky. 

The buzz that would usually annoy him after pressing the switch wasn't even heard as he violently pulled out his sketchbook, his pencils, ink and charcoal. He bit his thumb, scrolling through his drawings. A sense of guilt suddenly invaded him... Has he seriously been drawing robots and building this whole time?? The more he looked, the more he thought at Roger's words, he did that even more when he started to trace the first circles and noticed immediately how proportions just weren't right, how terrible his traits looked compared to his usual works. He erased everything, and remade the circles. He started to add triangles, squares, anything that could possibly help him and make sense, but it just didn't.  
"What is this..."  
He decided to move on to the facial expression. A smile should be simple- no, a frown... A serious face?  
Nothing. He tried the same expression nearly a hundred time, and not only they all looked similar, but he did that so many times that he tore the paper apart. 

He covered his eyes and sighed; he didn't have the force to go back to Roger and gave the truth, so he just composed the number on his phone, his head beating at every ring it would make. When Roger picked up, he didn't leave him the time to say anything.  
"When is the model arriving?"

 

Mihael Kheel. At this point, I'm sure you expected to hear his name...  
He sighed, walking out of the metro. Out of all the things he thought he would never do, the first one of the list probably was this: returning to Wammy's.  
Wammy's... It sounded terrible to him; the same institute that 7 years ago threw him out, making his career as an artist fall apart, but it was an old story; he now had multiple jobs, he had managed not to fall too hard in an endless tunnel of smoke and illegal substances and he lived in a filthy flat, bought with his own efforts, that he proudly called home. What could ever bring him back to Wammy's? Lack of money, simple as that... Roger saw him in some cheap magazines, making small appearances, and indeed, he had some style while posing. Mostly, he knew Near, and Roger called him for that only reason; after all, Mihael knew the other fairly well, and Roger didn't want any of his usual high class models to throw tantrums over how Near behaved. A person like Mihael, looking for a work and having experience with the artist, was perfect for this situation.

Working as a model in Wammy's, Mihael obviously would have gained a good wage, and that encouraged him, since he couldn't help but feel reluctant at first.

It was the morning after Nate had finally decided to accept Roger's offer, so that he could finally learn how to draw human figures. He was good, he knew that, and he also knew that after a few drawings, he wouldn't have needed references anymore. 

It was a surprise when Mello boldly made his entrance into Roger's office, slamming the door behind him.  
"I know I know, I'm late, forgive me-" when he looked into the room, he gasped. Nate looked at him just the same way.  
Nate in particular thought that maybe Mello had stopped thinking of him as an emotionless cheeky brat, Mello thought the same, but the only sight of the other brought back annoying memories.  
It had no sense to avoid confrontation, and Near didn't want to make the situation worse, so he didn't wait too long to say something:"it's a pleasure indeed to see you again... Mihael. May I know why you're here?"  
Mihael wanted to walk away, but it was late to fake he didn't hear him;" Roger called me to work here, with... With the most promising artist you have. You see, I made quite a career, and...What is that face? Are you jealous?"  
Nate smirked, but didn't tell him the truth yet... Roger coughed:" yes Mihael. If you don't mind, I'd like you to start immediately, as we don't have much time. Please, follow Nate to-"  
"Don't worry, I can go alone. Where is this genius you talked me about?"  
Nate covered his mouth to hide his grin, as Roger sighed, and finished:"...Nate... Nate is the artist I talked you about."  
Mihael flinched, looking confused, but immediately reacted slamming his fist on Roger's desk;" what do you mean?" He asked, not hiding very well his anger.  
Roger asked politely Nate to go out for a minute;"Mihael, this is not a joke. Nate seriously needs a model, but most of all... You do understand that if he succeeds, he is going to America alone. I know it is only one month, but please, can you work on him and make him a little more... Confident?"  
Mihael sighed:"... Roger, I know I created problems in the past and I shouldn't complain, but this... I don't know if I can work with him, I don't even want to!"  
"...then listen. If you do this, not only I'll pay you, but I'll give you the opportunity to enter into Wammy's again. That means you can graduate, and you know how important that is if you want a career."  
Mihael thought about it for a second or two. Well... Everything made sense. He would have gained much more than his services required after all. 

He bit his lip, nodding:"...if these are the conditions, then I agree. But you do understand that I'm not doing this for him anyhow, so don't expect me to stay shut when he bugs me". Roger nodded, sighing. It was a start after all:"I understand, so please... The muse should greet their artist before working..." He said, pointing at the door.

Nate was waiting outside. He was confused, but also extremely flattered. He didn't expect to see this person ever again, and he would just lie to himself telling that he didn't feel a shiver when their eyes met after 7 years. But right now, he just needed that damn reference. He just needed to confirm to himself once again that he was the top, and that nothing would have changed that; no one could stop him from having a great career, but he needed a little help in order to do so, and he didn't care about fixing old grudges at the moment. It was just a month, then everything would have been over.

Mihael walked out of the room, which he remembered fairly well and visited constantly during his years at Wammy's. He walked straight in front of Nate, ignoring the students trying to call out for him. Nate looked at him with a bored expression, which made Mihael nervous almost immediately. Finally, he offered his hand to the other:"...Mihael Kheel."  
Nate glanced at him for a few seconds, before putting out his hand, but always keeping his bad posture and a leg tight to his chest. "Nate River."

They shook their hands, the both of them feeling frustrated, maybe even uncomfortable.  
They didn't use to agree on many things; actually, they didn't use to discuss at all. Nate created static beauty, and Mihael could find beauty while creating chaos.  
And the moment their eyes met for the second time, they both knew that this was a terrible idea.


End file.
